tom riddle & sirius black live in my head rentfree
@eleventhboi
she/her // 20s // gryffindor // gemini // enfj-t ✨ just another harry potter trash blog ✨ (fuck jkr ofc) 🐉 currently losing my sanity over akotsk men (with the essence of doctor who, david tennant, brooklyn nine-nine, lord of the rings, 1d, six of crows, spy x family, house of the dragon and my one-week long hyperfixations. and literally everything else i stan. and sometimes personal stuff. i really don’t know what this blog is.)
the role of the person in the passenger seat is not only navigator but secretary as well. you have to type up the drivers messages to random ladies on facebook about cbd cream & google whether that billy joel song was the theme song for that show or not
content: The Tourney was suppose to be a fun time to relax until your husband lost the two children he was in charge of.
words: 2.5k
cw: MDNI 18+ p in v, fingering, cockwarming, a pussy slap, slapping, pussy pronouns, breeding (shocker), OOC Aerion (he is better behaved as Maekar is not a single mom)
a/n: this was originally just going to be them hooking up at tourneys, but I decided to make them married for the plot. I lokwey might do an origin story if anyone is interested lol.
You were not sure what had possessed you to want to visit home, but that slowly died after spending a whole day with your mother, but the girls seemed to be having a fun time being closer to the water, while Aerion sulked as he had lost another round of sword play to his uncle.
“You are brooding. You look like your damn dragon,” your brother muttered from beside you, causing you to roll your eyes.
“He has been your good-brother this long and you still cannot say his name,” you countered, raising a brow.
Lyonel laughed with a shake of his head, “It does not change the fact that he is a miserable bastard.”
You could still remember Lyonel’s bitter reaction when you had declared you were going to wed Prince Maekar. You were hardly a woman grown in love for the first and had declared to your father that if he denied the match when it was proposed you would burn down Storm’s End
You lifted your knife that you had previously used to cut your meat now flashed before his face, causing him to scoot back slightly, “Watch yourself,” you warned.
“I see where, Aerion, gets it from,” he then muttered, looking away from you toward your second whose face mirrored your own as he picked away at his supper.
“Mama,” a small voice called out.
You turned looking toward Rhae who sat across from you, “Yes?” you asked, your face transforming to one of a softer expression within a moment.
“When are we leaving to go see kepa?”
As if you could hear her thoughts your head snapped down to the end of the table glaring at your mother. She had been even less pleased than your brother when marrying a Targaryen and it now showed more than ever especially watching her interact with your children.
Lyonel, at least, loved his nieces and nephews. Your mother was a different story. You made a mental reminder to make Lyonel visit you at Summerhall next time he was missing you.
Aerion’s eyes drifted down to his grandmother holding her gaze as if he himself was warning her not to start with his mother. “On the morrow,” you told her. “Why don’t you three go get ready for bed. We will have an early start. I will be right in,” you told them with a smile.
The three eventually went off to bed, the eldest of them the most reluctant, but went nonetheless. You turned looking to your brother, “Next time you are coming to Summerhall so I do have to deal with the looks or the comments about my silver haired brood,” you declared loudly pushing yourself to your feet.
You ignored your mother’s voice, but it was easy to ignore as it mixed with your brother’s loud laughter. Your father simply sat at the table with a sigh, “You are the reason she hardly comes around,” he muttered to his wife.
Your eyes moved from your good-brother to your husband, “You lost our sons? You were in charge of two children and you lost them both?” You stood in front of the long table where they sat Lord Ashford having excused himself at your arrival being half terrified to hear how you took the news of your missing sons.
Maekar rolled his eyes, muttered something under his breath which only caused you to raise a brow, “Is that not what you did? We have six children. One is at the Citadel, three were with me, and two with you. Where are you two, Maekar?”
Baelor let out a small chuckle pressing his hand to his mouth as if trying to hide his betrayal, but his younger brother had already heard him long and clear. “Tell her why Daeron ran off.”
Your eyes snapped to the elder then slowly turned to your husband, “Why did they run off, Maekar?”
The man opened his mouth and closed it again. You let out a sigh, your hand moved, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Come,” you beckoned, turning out of the hall.
You did not have to turn to know he was following you, even if you could not hear his boots against the ground you knew he would have followed after you.
At the last minute he moved ahead of you, opening the door and allowing you to enter inside the provider chamber. Your eyes scanned the room, it was nowhere near as grand as the one at Summerhall, but it was rather large.
You moved toward the table at the far side pouring the wine in the flagon into two respective chalices. “Why did Daeron run off?” you asked once more.
He moved to sit in one of the chairs as you settled in the other. “He was going to enter the lists.”
“Oh, Maekar," you groaned in frustration.
“He is a man grown, it is expected of him!” he argued.
You rolled your eyes, “He is not Aerion nor is he you. The sooner you come to that realization the happier our lives can be.”
He sighed, but argued no further. “I am glad you are here. I have missed you,” he whispered quietly as if it would bring shame to admit it.
“Cannot hear you,” you teased, raising a brow.
His jaw clenched, “I am glad you are here. I have missed you,” he said louder this time.
You hummed, downing the rest of your wine as you stood to your feet making your way over to him. His legs parted for you like they had done thousands of times before as you looked down at him.
Your hands moved cupping either side of his face forcing him to look up. The hair of his beard rubbed against your palms. His violet eyes flickered over your face, as his hardened features visibly softened now that you were alone.
“I have missed you too,” you confessed, leaning down to press your lips to his.
It was chaste and it caused him to chase after you as you pulled away staring down at him. He groaned in displeasure before his hand trailed up gripping your ass and forcing you down onto his lap.
This time when his lips met yours it was anything, but chate. A hunger clash of teeth as you both tried to convert your overwhelming need for the other into it. It had been long. Too long without the other, and it always made the reunion just that much sweeter.
You pulled away once your lungs begged for more air than you were currently providing them with, “You are getting soft on me, husband,” you teased, your hands interlaced through his silver locks giving it a harsh tug.
“Shut your mouth,” he grunted, his own mouth pressing open mouth kisses down your throat.
“Make me.”
He grinned pulling the strings before you were being forced onto your feet, “Take your dress off,” he instructed.
You did as you were told, allowing the black fabric to pool at your feet. Maekar had finally freed his cock, by the time you were bare before him moving forward as you straddled him once more. The chair groaned under your combined weight, but neither of you truly cared.
Your mouth reconnected with his as his large hands moved. You rose up onto your
He drew his hand back giving your cunt a harsh slap, causing you to shoot forward your head to rest on his shoulder, “Not running your mouth now,” he muttered.
You leaned back, your hand raising to connect with his face the same way he had just done to your womanhood. His head snapped to the side before slowly turning back to you, a wide grin on his lips.
“She is soaked,” he whispered, his mouth moving to nip at your neck as he entered a digit into your drooling hole with ease. You hummed your head tilting back as you let out a loud moaning as his thumb rubbed a circle on your clit.
“She might already be ready to take me,” he said, slipping another finger into you.
You nodded, “I told you..I’ve missed you,” you told him, grinding yourself down against his hand.
He nodded in agreement withdrawing his finger, giving his cock a lazy few strokes as you hovered over him. He notched himself at your hole holding your eye contact as you slowly sunk down on him, taking him inch by inch.
He sat back waiting for you to begin to fuck yourself onto him, but you did not budge. You sat there staring at him, “Move,” he grunted.
“No. You lost our sons,” you told him. He groaned your name as if it was painful, but you still did not move. “Why should I move? Plead your case.”
“You are my wife and I have missed you so I order you to move.”
“Missed me or my cunt?”
“Both,” he confessed, trying to get you to move but you fought against him staying still.
“You lost our sons,” you pointed out.
“I will find them,” he promised.
That was good enough for you, allowing you to finally give him moving your hips against his. His mouth moved forward latching around your hardened peak of your breast, “Maekar,” you moaned, your nails digging into the pale skin of his shoulder.
“Missed you,” he muttered, as he dragged his tongue across the valley of your breast turning to get the other side the same attention as the first. You grinded your hips down into him quickly, your clit rubbing against the coarse hair at his base causing you to already feel the coil in your belly quickly building.
“She’s taking me so well.”
You only groaned in response, your nails digging further into him. His hands dug into your hip bones no doubt going to leave bruises in his wake, painting your skin with the reminder of him.
“You’re close already,” he observed, feeling the way you kept fluttering around him, the loud cry of his name being the only thing you could truly say.
You nodded eagerly, fucking yourself into him harder trying to achieve the ecstasy of relief, “Be a good girl and finish on your husband’s cock,” he instructed, continung to lap and suck at your hardened nub.
“Oh, fuck,” you groaned when the coil in your belly finally snapped.
You went boneless in his embrace moving forward. Maekar continued to fuck you through your high as he chased his own release, “Gonna fill you,” he told you, as he thrusted up into you quickly.
“Give me another, babe, husband," you muttered, and that was his undoing as buried himself to the hilt, the long ropes of cum shooting out filling you with him for the first time in what felt like forever.
Your ragged breaths filled the room as your flesh pressed against the other, his heat radiating off him as if he was your own personal fire. You were still slumped against his shoulder, as you pressed a kiss to his sweat slickened skin, “Oh, my dragon I have missed you,” you coed.
He grunted in response, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head, “Don’t leave that long again.”
“I can’t. You lose our children in your absence.”
The Baratheon tent was chaotic as always as your second son and yourself sat at the high table glancing around. You let out a sigh debating making your way back to the castle to await your husband’s return when you finally noticed a small boy next to an overly large man. Though his head was shaved you would have recognized that face anywhere.
“Aerion?” you asked, tilting your head toward the young man. He hummed in response turning toward you, “Is that your brother or are the fumes of stench finally getting to me.”
His head turned following your extended hand, and you watched his eyes instantly widen. “That’s what I thought,” you muttered, pushing yourself to your feet.
You made your way through the tent, men alike moving out of the way averting their eyes as if they were scared to make eye contact with you, but you did not care your gaze was set on your missing son.
The boy immediately looked toward the large knight hoping to his feet as he urged his companion to do the same and was almost successfully able to make a break for it before, “Aegon!” was called out loudly.
Your brother who had heard the commotion slowly approached eyes flickering between his sister and his new companion, “What is going on?” he asked, but you ignored him, eyes trained on the bald boy.
Egg paused for a moment and you could tell he was debating ignoring you like he did when he was caught doing something he should not have been. “If you run you will stay with your uncle for two moons,” causing him to turn toward you slowly.
The large man turned from you to the boy at his side, “M’Lady?” he questioned, as if you had gone crazy.
Your son looked at you with a sheepish smile that caused your head to spin. You quickly turned to your brother, “How many times has been in this tent?” you asked. Lyonel scratched the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes. “Your missing nephew was in your tent and you did not notice him!” you hissed, driving your finger into his chest.
The hedge knight’s eyes widened, glancing from the Baratheon siblings to the boy at his side, “Nephew…That means,” he slowly started to put the pieces together.
“That you have had Prince Maekar and my darling sister’s missing son, my dear friend,” Lyonel laughed moving toward the hedge knight as he kept his eyes on you as if he were afraid you were going to strike him.
“I am so sorry, M”lady I had no idea!”
The Baratheon man smirked, “Well now that is all sorted out you can take dear Aegon back to the castle and I will fill in Ser Duncan.”
You rolled your eyes, “Nope. The hedge knight is mine now, brother,” you muttered, shaking your head. “Come along. Ser…?”
“Duncan,” Egg supplied.
“Ser Duncan. Mayhaps one of you can inform me where the hell my eldest son has taken off too,” you muttered, shaking your head.
You went to move toward the exit when you felt a small hand wrap around yours causing you to look down, “I am sorry I ran off, but I lied to Ser Duncan, and he does not deserve to get in trouble.”
“Oh, good, because Ser Duncan is not going to get in trouble for keeping you alive. You are going to get in trouble for lying to the poor knight and running off.”
Aegon in the moment wasn’t sure which was going to be worse his father’s fiery temper or his mother’s fury.
I think there's something weirdly tragic about Maekar being a good king. Because the man we meet at Ashford would not be a good king. Which suggests that when he does take the Iron Throne, he makes a tremendous effort to play against his character, and do the boring work of keeping the peace and tolerating people that he doesn't like. And it's hard not to read that as Maekar trying to be as like Baelor as he can be, because it should be Baelor on the throne, and it's Maekar's fault that it isn't.